The Banff Chronicle w/c 15th October 2007

I've not been able to upload new pictures to facebook or my blog the last few days, because although I get free wireless here at the hostel, it's a bit on the slow and unreliable side. I'll do my best to get pictures up here today and the rest on facebook as soon as I can.

Here's what I've been up to:

The first night I was here I went out with my new BFFs: Kate (Aussie, from Perth), James (Aussie, from somewhere near Canberra) and Chris (English, from Woking!). We went on a pub crawl and they didn't mind one bit that I wasn't drinking, in fact, James wasn't drinking either, thought that was because he was broke. Still, we had a great night and ended up back at my hostel bar till around 1.30am (I'm a dirty stopout!)

Next evening we met up again where I persuaded everyone to come up to the hot springs, and we stayed till 10pm getting very warm, while the air around us got very cold. It was excellent.

Wednesday morning I had my job interviews for Sunshine Village at their hiring clinic (along with basically the entire transient population of Banff). You have an initial screening interview where they decide what sort of positions you'd be suitable for and then pass you on to the supervisors of those departments for more specific questions. I had 3 interviews, one for Food & Beverage Server, one for the Ski School and one for Guest Services. I got the one I wanted, which was Guest Services, which basically involves working for the ticket office doing ticket sales and season passes, that sort of thing. I asked for part-time, so I'll be working there weekends and I plan to supplement the rest of the time with 2-3 nights working in a restaurant/bar in town, giving me the weekdays to learn to ski. I've been provisionally offered something at a restaurant called Saltlik, which looks nice, but I'm going to have another look around tomorrow to see what else is out there.

So job is kinda sorted, but still have somewhere to live to find. Accommodation is a nightmare to find here - I know people who are sharing double beds with near-strangers for an extortionate rent in order to get something - so I'm keeping my fingers crossed that my lead from back home - my friend Cindy's brother-in-law who's living and working out here - comes off. I'm meeting him on Sunday to discuss. If that falls through, I'm a bit buggered!

Today the groovy gang and I headed out to Lake Louise and Johnston's Canyon for a day trip. Annoyingly, despite a beautiful blue sky this morning, by the time we arrived at Lake Louise the cloud had come down so I couldn't see much more of it that I could when I want there with Darrell a few weeks ago. Still amazing though, and at least this time we had snow so we could all get a bit excited!* Chris got a bit over-excited in fact, and decided to go for a paddle in the glacial waters. They were 'pretty cold' apparently.

Hostel life is a mixed bag. I quite like the social element - even though it's a bit 'party party party' for my tastes - and it's so easy to meet people you feel like you have a ready made group of friends, which is handy when you're alone in a strange place. We've all pretty much been doing the same things - going for jobs at Sunshine or in town, looking for accommodation - which has lent a certain camaraderie to proceedings. But I'm struggling with sharing a bedroom with 5 other girls, lovely though they all are. I've had no more than a handful of hours sleep since I've been here, because someone is always coming in late and/or drunk, trying to open doors and bags quietly and falling over when trying to climb into their bunks. Sometimes it's me. And there's always people wandering up and down the corridors talking loudly at 4am, while I lie there, imagining sticking something very sharp into their eyeballs. I feel can't really relax, hate communal bathrooms and am mistrustful of other people's washing up in the communal kitchen. Oh and pretty much everyone is so much younger than me I feel like an old mother hen at times (though it's nice when I get carded in the bars and everyone so far has been amazed at how old I am - Chris demanded to see my driving licence and still maintains it's a clever forgery. Bless him.) And as if to prove my point, it's Friday night and I'm sat in my bunk playing on the internet because everyone else is out on a pub crawl and I couldn't face it tonight. I'm just so tired from not really sleeping, I thought I'd sit this one out.

So that's me so far. Banff is really really beautiful and I literally can't stop taking pictures of the surrounding mountains, because I almost can't believe they're real. I'm excited to be living here, looking forward to starting work and learning to ski (oh I get a free ski pass with my new job - did I mention that?) and have met some lovely people. But I get lonely and homesick too at times, so it's nice to hear from home if you have a moment?

*Snow = skiing/snowboarding = jobs starting = money

New life begins in earnest

I've made it to Banff, struggled with my two suitcases, skis and poles, rucksack, handbag AND a stick of french bread (I needed something to nibble on on the journey), made 3 friends on the bus - James, Kate and Chris - who I hope to meet for drinks tonight (haven't mentioned I don't drink yet, I'm not sure they'll take it well), lined up an interview on Wednesday with Sunshine (the biggest ski resort in the area), had an email from the other job I applied for telling me to expect to hear from them shortly if I've been selected for interview (and why the hell wouldn't I be?), found my hostel and chosen my bunk (top bunk - a pain to get into but more privacy). Phew! Quite a day so far. And with excellent timing, Darrell has finally sent me that picture of me in my Bond Girl bikini at the Banff Hot Springs (my local pool now dahlinks) so I thought I'd pass it on to you.

Although I'm not keen on dorm accommodation, I've just found out one of the English girls in my room has got a job working for Gap in the mall. Did anyone say discount?

Canada vs. England

Five reasons why Canada is better than England:

1. The scenery - and the weather - is far more dramatic. That's not say that England's rolling greenery isn't lovely, because it is, but you can't beat a huge mountain towering above you, let alone a series of the damn things. With snow. That you can actually ski on.
   
2. The service you get in shops and restaurants is far better than back home. People actually seem to want you to get what you want and be happy. I'm not used to that. I mean, if people just refrain from scowling at you when you are giving them your custom back home you think you've been blessed.
   
3. They have Northern Lights. Aurora Borealis. Okay, I haven't seen them yet, but I live in hope and I bet when I do they'll be bloody brilliant.
4. The supermarkets are huge, and as you may know, I love a huge supermarket. I can spend hours wandering round them looking at a load of old nonsense - thermal underwear, cheap electrical goods, gardening equipment - and not buying a thing.
5. Property is still cheap enough that a young couple can buy a 4 bedroomed, 2 bathroomed, huge basemented 'starter home'. As it should be. I have amazed many a Canadian with tales of how much my tiny 1 bed flat is worth.
   

Five reasons why England is better than Canada:

1. The supermarkets may be huge but most of the food in them is processed and over-packaged rubbish. I feel guilty and wasteful just looking at half of it. And you can't buy loads of stuff you get back home: proper sausages, for example. Or any kind of decent cheese, which is deeply ironic given that back home, I buy Canadian Cheddar because it kicks ass. You can't get oxo cubes. And you can't buy gravy granules unless you go to the British Import Store in the West Edmonton Mall and pay nearly $6 for them...*
2. You have to have a car here to get anywhere. Having spent the best part of a month without one, I know how true that is. When Darrell was here, we tried to take the bus from Leduc, where Megan & Craig live, into the nearest big city, Edmonton. It took us just over an hour to walk to the bus stop, $17 each for a ticket, a 45 min journey time and there was only 1 bus back so if you miss that, or it's at an inconvenient time, you're buggered. If you do try to walk, the place is just not geared up for pedestrians. Often you have to take massive detours just to cross a road, or there's no crossing at all. And of course if you cross where there's no crossing, you're technically committing the crime of jaywalking (but I love being naughty!) And the distances are so big. The Canadians think nothing of driving 2 hours for a quick visit somewhere. You look on a map and think, oh, that's just over there, but then you find out that it's a 12 hour drive! At least England is manageably small.
   
3. You think Starbucks are ubiquitous back home? You should see it here: they're everywhere - and most of them are drive-thrus. I actually thought Megan was joking when she first mentioned a drive-thru Starbucks, but nope. I've had to relax my stance on not buying from them simply because there's little other choice. The other big coffee company here is called Tim Horton's and even though the coffee is fairly mediocre, the queues at the drive-thru (natch) have to be seen to be believed. Megan tells me in all seriousness that they put something addictive in their coffee so people keep coming back; I'm inclined to believe her.
4. There are very few independent restaurants or shops over here, they're all big chains. This means that every time you go to a mall or retail park (because there aren't really 'high streets' to speak of so that's where you go to shop), you get the same few shops over and over. At least you know what you're getting, I suppose (though Vancouver did have some cool independently-owned places to be fair). It's the kooky little restaurants back home more than anything that I miss. Particularly curry houses, because it's not really a big thing over here and so I've not had any since I was home.
5. Telly. Oh how I miss English telly, as I knew I would. They may have a gazillion different channels out here, but they largely show rubbish all day and night. Rubbish, interspersed every 5 minutes by adverts. I tend to look through to try to find English stuff - How to Look Good Naked and Ramsey's Kitchen Nightmare's have kept me almost sane - but it's nearly all American drama/action series, which is not really my cup of tea. Most of them are incomprehensible and/or packed full of clichés. Amusingly though, there's a big glut of English stars out here at the moment, and it never fails to make me smile wryly when I see Michelle Ryan (her off of Eastenders) playing The Bionic Woman with a - it has to be said - flawless American accent. Still, I can't shake off the image of her selling polyester blouses on a market stall, even when she's dropkicking a baddy. So I miss good English comedy and decent documentaries very much indeed. If you do see anything brilliant, please tell me, because there's lots of places online to watch them these days and I can try to track them down...

Oh and a quick mention goes to Greyhound, the bus service out here and the USA, who have screwed me over. I tried to buy my ticket to Banff online and it kept saying that it wouldn't process just now, could I try again later please? Eventually, after trying both my visa & debit cards, I gave up trying and Megan gave me a lift to the bus station to buy my ticket in person. However, the failed web purchases found their way onto my statements anyway, where, to date, they have taken an erroneous $200 from the 2 cards with a further $100 pending. On speaking to a customer service representative in Texas at length about this, after being passed from pillar to post around Canada first of course, I've been told that no, they've not taken any money from me at all. Oh, well, that's alright then. Other than the fact that you actually have. You bastards. Now I have to wait 15 days (for no particular reason) then send them copies of my statements to prove that they've stolen money from me and then they'll review it, and think about whether or not they'll return it, given that they don't believe that they have taken it in the first place because it's not on their system. Well it sure as heckfire is on mine, baby. Meh.

*A special prize goes to anyone who can name the three dishes I've cooked for Megan & Craig - a.k.a. Craigan - recently based on the clues provided. Jen, surely this should be easy for you?

Bruised, scratched, deaf and flushed down a toilet

Today, Megan* & I visited the West Edmonton Mall again (3rd time I've been there and I still haven't seen it all!) to spend the afternoon to the World Waterpark. As well as a huge beach-style pool with wave machine, there are loads of waterslides, which we partook of with gusto. At first, only the Twister and the Corkscrew were open, so naturally we went on them several times each. On one of my goes on the Corkscrew, I got so overexcited when it was time for me to ride that I forgot to bend down quick enough and whacked my head hard on the top of the slide. A lovely big bump (and possible slight concussion?) resulted, much to Megan's amusement, sorry, I meant concern. Having learnt my lesson after my first major dunking, I did my best to hold my nose towards the end on each occasion, though sometimes this was easier said than done - when I went on Nessie's Revenge, my desperate, disorientated scrabbling for my face as I could see the end approaching resulted in my scratching my face up the right side of my nose. How terribly attractive!

Then, while we were having a sit down on the beach after a spell in the hot tub, we heard the whooosh of water and realised they were opening up all the big, scary slides. Excellent! I immediately climbed the seemingly infinite number of stairs to the Sky Screamer, which did exactly what it says on the tin. It's a breathtaking, almost-sheer drop from the off, which then levels off into an aquaplane which has a tendency to deposit water where you really don't want it. Nuff said. (If you look at the picture above it's the 2 red tubes on the right-hand side.) I loved it and went on twice more, though Megan, having been on it during a previous trip, felt that once had been quite enough.

Tropical Typhoon was to be next, a short tube which catapults you full pelt into a giant funnel, in which you zoom round and round before dropping down the hole in the middle into a plunge pool. This was deeply unpleasant. Not only did I manage to somehow end up falling head first through the hole, but I now know exactly how a poo feels when being flushed down a toilet.

So several hours later, wet, weary and with ears so full of water I literally couldn't hear a thing, we departed the mall. It was bloody brilliant.


We popped home to get showered and changed before going to Yianni's Greek restaurant on Whyte Ave for dinner (I had the chicken souvlaki, which was lovely), followed by deep fried ice-cream at Julio Barrio's next door for desert, where we hung spoons off our noses for no particular reason. Or at least, I did but - as this photo proves - Megan totally cheated.

Bloody hell but it's windy here tonight. I'm in bed and keep thinking the house will blow away. We're not in Kansas anymore, Toto...

*to say Megan is a trooper would be an understatement: most of the day trips we've taken, as today, she has worked a nightshift the night before and manages to last a whole day on about 2 hours sleep. I've no idea how she does it.

Giving thanks

We spent the weekend at Craig's parents' for Canadian Thanksgiving. They live in a small town, with both Craig's sister's within walking distance (which, given that this is Canada where they drive EVERYWHERE, is a very short distance indeed) and each household has a pug: Kiddy, Dusty and Bugsy. I've never entirely trusted anything that could lick their own nose (sorry Jen) but they are very cute, if a bit over-excitable and snorty. Pictures at the usual place.

We started the morning today at the River Rock Grill where, as you can see, they specialise in Family 'Dinning'. Spelling errors aside, they did a mean breakfast and my pancakes were as light and fluffy as a cloud (far better than the ones Darrell attempted when he was here - sorry Daz but they were dire). I chatted to Auntie Debbie, who is alright in my book* because she's a big fan of Location, Location, Location and anyone who loves Phil and Kirsty must be sound.

A walk of the dogs later, we headed over to...now I'm not sure whose farm it was - some of Craig's relatives or family friends? - to go and look at their lynxes. Yes. They live in cages in the (huge) garden, and though one of them is pretty wild, the other was actually hand reared along with the house cats so is quite tame. Then we drove over to Auntie Debbie & Uncle Dave's for lunch, only to be confronted by their 2 dogs, several cats, 3 horses, a llama and several hundred bunny rabbits running free in the yard, not to mention the 17 members of extended family. I admit to being a little overwhelmed by it all.

Lunch was fantastic. We had deep-fried turkey (oh yes) which was phenomenal. Why don't we always cook turkey this way? Very tender and delicious, with the most amazing crispy skin which - oh but my family will be sooo jealous here - no one else seemed that bothered about eating. Megan even went as far as saying it was 'disgusting'. And so I had the run of the crispy skin and the oh so gorgeous crispy bits around the wings and...oh it was heaven. In addition to the turkey there was a huge ham, potatoes and gravy, peas, a million and one different types of salad and - and this is where it got a bit too strange for me - strawberries in jelly and rice pudding. Which was to go, apparently, with the turkey. Hmmm. And they thought I was odd for eating all the crispy turkey bits. Pumpkin pie followed, naturally, which was just as I imagined it (not sure if I've ever had it before) and absolutely superb.

I had done my research on Canadian Thanksgiving and discovered that it was first introduced by the explorer Martin Frobisher, who sat down in 1578 to give thanks for not dying in the harsh wilderness that was (and still is in many parts) Canada, while he was actually trying to find a way to get to China (thanks Wikipedia!) So, thinking it would lend me a certain amount of kudos amongst my kind hosts, I raised my punch for a toast to the said Mr Frobisher, only to be greeted by a sea of blank stares. No one, it seems, had heard of him, or knew exactly why they were sitting down to this delicious meal.

Ah well, it's the turkey that counts.

*'Who's Alright by Me: how to judge a book by its cover' by Mia Davies neé Fothergill

Newest member of the family

Isn't it amazing how one little gadget can make you so happy? Not content with treating myself to new ski boots and a trio of cardigans at Gap in the last couple of weeks, not to mention an extended holiday, I bought a new iPod in the sale at Best Buy today, at a bargain price compared to back home. Silver, 80Gb and very sexy. And I shall never again be ridiculed for my 'retro', 'vintage' 3rd generation brick! Ha!

The cottage and the bunkey

Megan & I popped over to her parent's place just for one night, getting back yesterday. Their house is huge and it amuses me that they refer to it as a 'cottage'. The little 2 bed cabin, called the 'bunkey', that they have in their grounds (where Megan & I slept) is probably bigger than my flat back home. Amazing how many pictures of the lake I managed to take in just 2 days, but then, it was terribly picturesque. Sadly, the Northern Lights did not make an appearance but the stars, out there in the middle of nowhere and away from all the light pollution, were incredible nonetheless. We also managed to do a spot of quad biking before we left too, so all was good.

Animal watch: elk, coyotes (oh yes, they looked wily alright), deer, birds of prey of some description (possibly eagles but I'm a bit rubbish on birds), minnows (do they count?), a muskrat (though Megan called it a badger, which threw me, as it was in the water).

Catch up with all the rest of the pics here as usual.

What we did on our holidays

Calgary was great. It's a cool and modern city, with plenty of spectacular views of parks and rivers and shiny skyscrapers. We were staying in a somewhat disconcerting stuffed-full-of-soft-toys B&B, a short walk from Kensington. Our room was called The Wind in the Willows, which, given Darrell's excessive gas problem, was rather too apt for my liking. We slowly became convinced that the everytime we looked, another soft toy had been squashed into the room and that we would wake up one night with a stuffed moose crouching over us with a butcher's knife.

We were sure that we'd seen a big observation tower when we'd driven into the city, so on our first day there, we decided to look for it. Now, this is a sodding great big tower, with a red observation deck, so you'd think that it wouldn't be hard to track down. You'd be wrong. No matter where we looked, it remained elusive until we finally decided to do the sensible thing and ask a woman covered in tattoos in an information booth at Eau Claire market (while we ate enormous ice creams. Well, when in Rome). She gave us directions that seemed to take us a) back to where we'd started over the other side of town completely and b) nowhere near any tower that we could see. Then suddenly, as we rounded the last corner, lo and behold we discovered that the bastard tower had been somehow hiding behind every other tall building in the area. I swear to god it's like a stealth building, you'd never know it was there until you were underneath it. We hopped across the road with excitement and glee only to find it had been closed an hour earlier for a private function. Bugger.

Somehow we ended up in a bar. And somehow I ended up drunk. I'm not prepared to discuss the details, but let's just say 2 shandies and I'm anyone's, it would seem.

The next day we got up and had our (non-negotiable 8am) breakfast of pancakes and fruit and headed back to the tower. Our journey into the city first took us past the totally fabulous Crave, which is a somewhat legendary cup cake shop, with queues right out of the door. We bought an assorted half a dozen and went and sat by the river to have a little nibble. Okay, okay, stuff our faces. Then we found the tower and went up, which was well worth the wait. I particularly liked the glass floored bit which made your stomach turn over. Then we went to the Devonian gardens, which is a garden on the 4th floor of a shopping mall where we lazed, read tourist brochures and played with bubblegum. Oh and I bought some rather lovely ski boots, which are silver, so I was very happy and I'm set up for the season now, with my borrowed ski clothes from Megan. Now I just have to get heaters built into them because I understand that -30 degrees tends to feel really quite chilly.

Finally we headed back to the B&B to get changed for dinner and a movie (those of you who know me well know that I normally refuse to use the word 'movie' back home, in favour of the more proper English word 'film' but I'm having to relax the rules a bit out here). A quick taco/fajita combo and then we went back to Eau Claire to watch Superbad, which was Supergood. A leisurely walk back through the city and park, where we saw giant rabbits (at least I think they were rabbits, I'm still getting used to the wildlife out here. Today we saw a squashed porcupine at the side of the road. I mean, come on, what's wrong with the humble hedgehog?) and a photo session on the bridge which saw me produce this little beauty.

We checked out of serial killer heaven the next morning and got back in the car for the drive to Banff. We could see the Rockies in the distance but I'm not sure anything quite prepares you for seeing them up close for the first time. They are so bloody spectacular and I did end up taking a large amount of pictures, though not as many as Daz because I was driving and he will take pictures of anything that moves - or doesn't move - anyway.

We checked into our log cabin (with jacuzzi!) and headed out to check out the town where I'll be spending the winter. I think I lucked out. It's a nice size town, lots of shops so I won't feel claustrophobic. I've earmarked a couple of places I'd quite like to work, including a very cool little sweet shop right in the centre of town, but I'll start the job hunt in earnest in a couple of weeks when I get back there. Preferably I'll get somewhere which gives me a ski pass, which is, after all, what it's all about. So for now, we were just browsing. We walked down to the Bow River and ate ribs at Tony Roma's. Next day we headed over to the Banff Gondolas, which take you up Sulphur Mountain (which is also, by some extraordinary coincidence, my nickname for Darrell after spending so much time in an enclosed space with him). We headed up the mountain to be battered by the wind, throw snowballs at each other and say 'Oh my god, this is just so beautiful. It looks like a backdrop. I can't believe it's real' ad nauseum. Then, when we were good and cold, we took the gondola back down to visit the Banff Hot Springs, which was just gorgeous. When Darrell finally sends me that picture of me in my bond girl bikini (Primark, £5) with the mountains behind me, I'll be sure to pass it on to you, I promise.

Big burger for lunch before walking it off on the Bow River trail down to the Bow River falls, then back for a quick jacuzzi. Well, you would, wouldn't you?

Next morning we checked out to drive along the Icefields Parkway towards Jasper, which lived up to its name. Unfortunately this also meant that it was too rainy/snowy/foggy/misty to see any of the sodding mountains along the way until we were right on top of them, but the weather can be forgiven because, as you can see, the snow made Darrell so darn happy. We got to Jasper and thought we'd try to find our hotel, which claimed to be 'near Jasper'. Hmmm. In fact it was nearly an hour's drive away in Hicksville, sorry Hinton. Damn these Canadians and their screwy perception of distance. That's like saying you should stay in a hotel in Basingstoke because it's 'near' London! (which fortunately for those of us in London, it isn't. Phew.)

We couldn't face driving all the way back to Jasper the next day (and anyway, I'd already been there for 40 minutes when our train stopped there on the way from Vancouver to Edmonton, so I'd pretty much done that) so instead we drove the 250kms or so back to Megan & Craig's and Darrell got ready for his flight to Vancouver that afternoon where he's spending the next week or so. Apparently it's very cold and wet there at the moment. Haha. Megan & I will be heading up to her parent's cabin tomorrow for a couple of days in the hope of seeing some Aurora Borealis (which is my dearest wish to see!) so fingers crossed for me. Naturally if I do, you'll be the first with the pictures.

More pics from the road trip here.

Road trip

Darrell & I have hired a car and hit the road with a couple of rucksacks* and a guitar.

We're currently in Calgary, which is gorgeous, but I can't upload my pictures just now as I don't have my laptop with me. We're here for a couple of days, then off to Banff for a couple of nights in a log cabin before heading up to Jasper to (hopefully) do some white water rafting before the season finishes. I will no doubt blog about it properly when we return, including pictures of the (slightly scary) B&B we're currently staying in. Quick preview: lots of soft toys. LOTS.

*Well, a small suitcase and a holdall - we are in our thirties you know.

A disgrace to the sisterhood

I'm sorry, I really am. I realise that what I'm about to tell you might mean I have to hand in my membership to Womenhood United but I've been officially outshopped by a man.

Omigod but Darrell can shop. The other day we went to the West Edmonton Mall (until 2004 the largest shopping mall in world) and spent 12 hours there. Man but it is BIG. To be fair, as well as going in most (but not all!) of the shops, we also had lunch (chinese) and dinner (ribs), went to the cinema (saw Shoot 'Em Up and it is baaaaaaaaaaad), watched a sealion show, went bowling (I whooped Darrell's ass so that's one back for the girls), though we didn't have time to go to the waterpark with waterslides (and hadn't brought our cozzies so might have got arrested for indecency if we'd tried), nor did we have time to go to the theme park (yes really) or see the aquarium. But for the main bulk of the day, we did go into a million different shops. By the end, I was to be found sat on the man chairs moaning quietly and rubbing my tired legs, while Darrell zoomed round like a whirling dervish saying "Come on now, if you sit down you'll never want to get up. Let's pick up the pace!" In subsequent days he has continued this trend by spending a small fortune on hoodies, computer games and - most importantly, a very nice new guitar. Pretty much the full extent of my shopping up till now has been the garment you can see me modelling above, which they call a vest over here, but clearly it is actually a bodywarmer. And green to boot. Oh and I bought some underwear. My god I'm going crazy!

Today we're just chilling out, eating left over Mexican food - those burritos are gooood but they are filling - and playing Guitar Hero, which I wasn't bad at on the easy level but now we're using four fingers I find I'm struggling to keep up with the guitar meister...

New photos here and here.

Catching up a bit

It’s been so great seeing Megan again but we’ve been so busy, I haven’t had a chance to blog, so sorry aboot (Canadian pronunciation) that. I’m typing this on word as I’m on the train between Vancouver & Edmonton and shall upload it as soon I get near an internet connection. I’ll give you a brief rundown of the past few days:

On 11th Sept, Megan & I checked into the HI hostel in Jericho Beach, where we had a private room, and went for dinner at the Galley Patio Bar which was cheap and cheerful but with a stunning view of the sun going down over the beach, mountains and cityscape (and yes, we did raise a toast to what would have been my 8th wedding anniversary). The following day we went on a couple of recommendations to Lynn Canyon, where we had a great mini-hike in the forest, sat for ages looking at the glacial water running through the valley and had a picnic (but not in the forest – here you gotta be BEAR AWARE!). We had dinner at a 24hr vegetarian fusion restaurant called Naam. We’re sooooo Vancouver. Next day we
drove up Highway 99 to Whistler, where the 2010 Winter Olympics is being held. As you can see, in the race to the shopping I won gold, but to be fair, Megan was a worthy runner up. The weather, it has to be said, has been stunning and we were sweltering, which was not what I expected the first time I visited a ski resort but there you go. Life’s like that, as some wise Canadian woman once said. I think it was Avril Lavigne. Later that evening we headed down to W4th (I speaka da lingo) to find some dinner and discovered our new favourite restaurant in the whole world, Fish, where we had food so good we couldn’t speak. We did make a lot of mmmmm noises though and nodded a lot too. I had the blackened trout with lemon butter and fries. Then a hop over to Capers for a lemon tart, pecan pie and coffee for dessert, next to a couple of anorexic girls talking about their treatment programme, which made us appreciate our puddings even more.

Breakfast on 14th Sept was taken at Sophie’s Cosmic Café where we enjoyed the crazy crap on the walls muchly. We did a spot of shopping, returned our rental car and headed over to the train station to pick up the VIA rail train through the Rockies to Megan’s hometown of Edmonton. As I write, we’re a few short hours away from our destination (the journey is 23 hours in total). A few observations from our journey so far are as follows:

The Rockies, as the name might suggest, rock
Mountain sheep can proffer the most disdainful expression.
Bears can be hard to spot, even when someone tries to point them out to you.
I don’t think moose actually exist. A clever marketing ploy on the part of the Canadians, I’m guessing. At least, I’ve not seen any, which is almost conclusive.
Buffalo, however, do exist and are big.
Bright sunshine without a cloud in the sky is definitely the best way to see this all.
Bring snacks when you're going on a 23 hr train journey.
Glacial water is very blue and, allegedly, very cold.
Washing and dressing in a tiny bathroom is easier than I might previously have thought.
Sleeping across two reclining seats is not.
Canada is very big and very beautiful indeed.

When we arrive in Edmonton, we will have two lovely boys waiting for us. Craig, Megan’s fiancé, and Darrell, who flew in from London yesterday for a month long visit and whom I cannot wait to see. They met up this morning and have been out buying ‘essentials’ (i.e. beer), and will be taking us out for dinner on our arrival. Life is good.

No longer alone...

Whilst I don't have too much to report from yesterday (I took a break from walking and did very little except have a MAMMOTH session on MSN Messenger), I'm very excited today because although I'm checking out of my lovely guest house (boo), Megan is flying in this afternoon to stay with me at a hostel on Jericho Beach (hurray!) Can't wait to see her. She'll be here in Vancouver with me for a few days before we head back to Edmonton by train on Friday. It's a 23 hour journey through the Rockies - supposed to be spectacular. I'm sure I'll tell you all about it.

I have decided that although there are definitely positives to travelling alone - you can go where you want when you want, don't have to justify it to anyone, can stay as long as you want and bail out if you're bored without explanation - I have found the lack of someone to say 'Oh wow, look at that!' to rather isolating. I'm a sociable creature by nature and, although I've chatted to a few people, a few possibly against their will, I think I'd prefer to share my experiences with someone. I am, of course, therefore delighted that, as well as spending the next month with Megan and her fiancé Craig, Darrell is flying out at the end of this week to bum around for a month in Edmonton with me. We will probably hire a car and do a bit of a mini-Rockies tour and Megan plans to take us up to her parents' cabin which is somewhere on a lake, where we hope very much to see the Northern Lights. Oh I just can't wait.

In other news, I've had an allergic reaction to something - no idea what - and have swollen and numb lips. Thank goodness I've not had to do any kissing this week.

Canadian wildlife

I had such a lovely day today. I went for a walk down Robson (that's Robson STREET for all my English readers) and ended up at Stanley Park, where I saw 2 raccoons! Never seen any before that I'm aware of, so I was pleasantly and probably rather ridiculously amused by them. It reminded me of an Australian girl I once knew, by the name of Arri. I was driving along with her and saw a squashed hedgehog at the side of the road, to which I said 'Awwww', or words to that effect. She asked me what I was awwwwing about, so I said I'd seen a dead hedgehog, to which she burst out laughing. Hardly an appropriate response, as pointed out. It turns out she assumed I was joking because, as everyone knew, hedgehogs don't actually exist, they are merely creatures created by, and for, cartoons and children's stories. She refused to believe my vigorous assertion that they did in fact exist, and as I couldn't ever find another hedgehog to show her, I'm pretty sure she returned to Oz still thinking I was making it all up. At least I'll now believe in raccoons.

I then visited the Vancouver Aquarium, which I'm pleased to report is excellent, and I was beyond delighted to finally see the world-famous Vancouver sea otters that have been paraded about so often on popbitch. The beluga whales were beautifully graceful, the sea lion enormous, and I must admit to being rather pleased with some of the pictures I took of the jellyfish. I love jellyfish. I want some as pets. Is that allowed? As is customary in these places, I had to exit through the gift shop, where I managed, against the odds, to convince myself I didn't actually want a soft-toy jellyfish or a sea otter backpack.

Night vision

I just dragged my sorry arse back up the Harbour Centre tower to see the view of Vancouver at night. The ticket is an all day thing and they say it's worth seeing at night too, so even though I wanted to just slob out and go to bed early (really? Me?) I thought no, you've come this far, you've got to see all there is to see.

I'm pretty glad I did.

Getting the hang of it all

Well the good news is, I do feel like I'm settling in a bit now. Today, someone approached me and asked me where Seymour and Davie was. Now, once upon a time, in the not-too-dim and distant past, I'd have wondered who Seymour and Davie were and why I should know what they were up to. But now, quick as a flash, I replied "One or two blocks down and one block over". Oh yes. If I hadn't said it in my self-consciously plummy English voice, he'd have thought I was a native, of that I've no doubt.

One thing I do need to tackle though, is my fear of small change. Let me explain. Notes, I can do. They're colourful on the whole and have the numbers written clearly on them, so I have no problem handing them over as though I've been doing it all my life. The coins, however, imbibe me with a sense of apprehension. I go to buy a coke and look into my [overfull with change after all the note usage] purse, but without taking each coin out individually, peering at it this way and that in the available light to see the value hidden somewhere within the decoration and, let's face it, looking like a numpty in the process, I can't just throw the correct change the cashier's way. The other thing that drives me mad is that uniquely North American thing of not including the tax (VAT equivalent) in the advertised price, most of the time anyway. So you go to buy something for $2.99, with $3 clutched in your sweaty palm, and the woman behind the till says "That's $3.24" (or whatever the rate is - I haven't worked it out and with my limited grasp of maths, probably never will). But then the next time you go to buy something that costs, say, $1.35, you deliberately go up with something approaching $2 just in case, and then they say "That's $1.35 please". I just don't bloody get it.

This morning I went to the Granville Island market, which was very pleasant - the food market was fab. I bought some Golden Raspberries, which are just like normal raspberries but they aren't red. Strange. But delicious. I wandered round for ages, bought some sourdough bread (yum) and then hopped on a ferry over to the main part of Vancouver again, got lost (happens to me alot but it's okay, I get where I want to be eventually) then headed over to the Harbour Centre, which has some spectacular views, which you can see in my updated photo album here. In order to get up to the viewing gallery, you go up a glass-fronted lift on the outside of the building, which ascends at one story per second. After contemplating the wisdom of this for a few seconds, I turned to the two older American women I was sharing the lift with and said "This probably isn't the moment to mention Towering Inferno, is it?" Apparently, it wasn't.

It is really Stanley's Park, isn't it?

My first lot of photos is up and you can find them here, or via my facebook account if you prefer. I went for a cycle round Stanley Park today on a slightly ridiculous pink cruiser (okay, okay, I loved it) - had set off with a load of other BUNACers but lost them in the first 5 minutes, which in fact gave me the opportunity to do it my way. Which, incidentally, involved a lot of grunting and stopping for rests. Had been planning to go out and be sociable this evening but am so bloody knackered now that I'm thinking instead of, oh, I don't know, staying in, reading my book and then going to bed. Again. I'm really so bloody predictable.

I've also got a Canadian sim card and phone number now - email me if you want me to send it to you so you can text me on occasion if you fancy - and can you believe that over here you get charged for receiving calls, as well as making them? Talk about a licence to print money!

I'm now settled into the Urban Hideaway, where I have a double room with a view of the garden all to myself, which feels like the ultimate luxury after the 4 bedded bunk-up of last night. I've spent the afternoon exploring the shops and even went to the cinema to see Sicko, the new Michael Moore film which features - much to my huge excitement - my very own Queen Charlotte's hospital and my fellow midwives Darrell Brooks & Becky Lupton! Whilst the NHS and the Canadian healthcare system are praised for their open door policies, the film provides a damning report on the American health insurance scandal which I watched open-mouthed, even finding myself crying on 3 occasions. A sharp reminder of why I never want to live in the US.

There's a pub meet tonight with all my fellow BUNACers, which I feel I should attend in order to be sociable but a) I'm still pretty tired and would rather have an early night and b) fully expect them all to be out to get trollied, which as you know, is not my bag. Maybe I'll just join them for a quick soft drink out of politeness and then take refuge in my grandmother-of-the-group status and head home for a cup of something warm and comforting. From coke to cocoa in 2 easy steps.

Busy bee

One of my room mates found out how old I am this morning. Her reaction was a picture and no mistake. I'm amazed she didn't ask me if I still had all my own teeth...

Got a busy day lined up as I've got to run for breakfast now, then to a briefing about getting a Social Insurance Number (like an NI number) so I can work here, then moving from the hostel to this guest house, then might get time to do some exploring!

Canada, eh?

After months and months of talking about (sorry, aboot) coming to Canada, I'm not sure why it's taken me so much by surprise that I'm actually here. All my many leaving do's have been lovely, great to catch up with everyone I could before I came out here, but clearly I have been very deeply in denial about, well, everything I think.

For a start, my fellow BUNAC travellers are nearly all considerably younger than me, so I already feel like their mother. The drive from the airport into town (in a yellow school bus!) was a surreal experience because I kept seeing unfamiliar things and thinking 'Oh my God I'm in Canada. I'm actually IN Canada. I'm in bloody Canada. And what's more, I'm going to be here for a really long time'. I'm normally a cool and confident traveller but am feeling distinctly odd and lost out here on my own. At least it's not long till Megan flies out from Edmonton to come and visit me!

I'm staying tonight in a (slightly musty smelling) hostel in a room with 3 of the rest of the BUNAC gang - though I'm so bloody tired I don't think the smell or company will bother me much - who are all going out for drinks and food roundabout now, but I think I'm just going to head off to bed. Did I say mother? Make that grandmother. I have already had a quick wander round Davie Village, where the hostel is located, which appears to be Vancouver's equivalent of Old Compton Street. Lots of rainbows. Lots of sex shops. Then I found this coffee shop which had free wireless internet so I rushed back to get my laptop to have a quick blog for your delight and pleasure...

Right, now I'm just too tired to write any more just now. It's only 9.15pm here, but it's 5.15 tomorrow morning in my head. Anyway, rest assured I made it here safe and sound and haven't managed to do anything stupid yet. There's still plenty of time for that.

I'm a free agent...

...because I have one of these. It's super cool, 120Gbs, fits in the palm of your hand and weighs as much as bar of dairy milk.

Mmmm. Chocolate. On that note, my friend Guy gave me a kilo of Dairy Milk as a going away present, on the condition I ate it all before I left.

3 days left. No sweat.

Two sticks on my feet, some snow and a hill...

...in Milton Keynes of all places, my feelings about which have been previously documented.

For my birthday, in preparation for spending 6 months in a ski resort, David bought me a skiing lesson at the Xscape SnoZone! which I had yesterday. Given that I can't remember ever having been in the same room as a pair of skis, let alone had them on my feet, it was a steep learning curve but in 3 hours I went from "how the hell am I supposed to move with these bloody things on my feet?" to "get me higher up this damn hill and watch me kick some powder!"

If you'd like to see how I ended up, watch this:


But if you'd like to see me fall over the first time I tried turning (and I'm guessing that you would), see here (sorry it's sideways):


I had a blast but, inevitably, my thighs are paying for it today.

Baby names - again

Remember the couple from New Zealand who wanted to call their son 4Real? NZ authorities blocked it, because numbers aren't allowed in names. So the parents have now settled on something a bit less controversial. Superman.

Sigh.

Au reservoir work

Well my last day at work didn't go quite as planned. I haven't finished my (yawn!) audit for starters, because I'm very lazy when it comes to boring data input, but I still need to finish it at some point. I can do the lion's share at home but will have to pop in to the hospital next week to tidy up. On top of this, I have a case conference (social services meeting) to go to on Monday, because it's one of my girls I've spent months working with and fighting for, so I don't want to let her down by not attending just because I've left work!

Today I was asked to meet Debbie at 1.30pm in the community office. This I did and was taken round to my 'surprise' leaving party, which was very nice, and I ate lots of food. Then I had to finish a report for the social services meeting on Monday. It took me ages, because I had a load of research to do for it, then I tried to email it to the social worker, but our email client at work is being migrated this weekend and it wouldn't let me log on. So I thought I'd photocopy a load for Monday instead. Half an hour and SIX jam clearances later, I'd failed to copy even one bloody report. I thought I'd give up and go home, so I went out to my car, only to find the sodding thing wouldn't start. It had done this the other day and I'd taken it to the garage, who said they'd sorted the problem. Obviously not. So I contacted Security and they came out to jump start me, bless their cottons. I noticed my phone had run out of battery and had a barrage of messages when I switched it on. One was from Claire, for whom I'm housesitting at present while she's in Portugal, who'd had a garbled message from her cleaner about something she couldn't understand, so she was panicking. I promised to get home asap to make sure everything was okay (which it is, it's just that the cleaner had shut the door behind her and left some documents in the house by accident). I put my car stereo in to relax me and, lo and behold, the sodding thing wouldn't do a dicky bird. Won't even switch on. No idea why. I have a CD stuck in it too.

Now I've got home I'm pissed off and bloody starving in that order, so I need to find something to eat and then syringe feed the hamster. Don't ask.

What a thriller!

Whoever came up with this idea to keep Filipino prisoners occupied was a genius.



Sentenced to 10 years, out in 5 for good rhythm.

One last thing...

oh and if I die, can I have the coffin in picture number 7 please? Very fitting.

Jordandre

Lovely to see that Jordan and Peter Andre have gone for a low-key, attention-avoiding name - Princess Tiaamii - for their new daughter.

"We've put an accent over the first A to make it more exotic and two Is at the end just to make it a bit different"

Because having parents who look like Barbie & Ken doesn't make the kid different enough, does it? Given that she narrowly avoided being called Tinkerbell, it could conceivably have been worse I suppose.

The saga comes to a close

Well.

I'm extremely mindful that my biggest fear - and the reason I raced through the latest and last Harry Potter at a fair old speed - was that someone might ruin it for me by giving me even the merest hint of what might happen and therefore I shan't be posting anything on here which could give anyone still reading (or yet to read) any clues.

All I'll say then is that I wasn't disappointed for a moment.

Big night

As you may have guessed, my internet access is, at best, sporadic. I've just been staying at my friends Sophie & Dan's while they've been on holiday* and they don't have wireless broadband (the heathens!) and I swear to God** I felt like I'd been cut off from the whole universe. Which, in a sense, I suppose I was.

Anyway, enough of this nonsense. Tonight is, as you will no doubt be aware, a momentous and long-awaited occasion. HP7: the saga comes to a close. At once both incredibly exciting and incredibly sad. I shall be collecting my copy at midnight and reading through the night, each turn of the page an intrepid journey into the unknown. I shall race to finish it, heart in mouth and hands all a-tremble, and cry when I do; of that I have no doubt. Then I'll turn to page 1 and begin again.

I shan't post any spoilers, rest assured.

*I seem to have given up on bed rating, because I keep forgetting to take pictures: sorry
**a.k.a. Silas the Hobbit

My last birth before leaving the job

Twins, first (right), boy, born in water, second (left), girl, footling breech on all fours. Me, bra showing like a hussy, very proud*.

*not of the bra showing, particularly

Tony's biggest fan

Wow. It's like me when Maggie went:

Bugger

Got knocked off my bike this evening and ended up with my leg trapped under the bike, which was under the front of a car. Can't walk on my right ankle at all, which is swollen to buggery,
though thank god there's no actual breaks (went to A&E just in case). Fella who hit me admitted liability straight away so that will make things easier.

Ouch ouch bloody ouch. I'm very cross.

Johnston freed at last

Hurray hurray hurray!

Podication

I downloaded lastest Geoff Show podcast today, as is my wont, only to discover to my absolute delight that the show recorded on my birthday was in fact podicated (the podcast equivalent of dedicated) to ME!

Okay, I can't say this was a total surprise, as I had written in to request a birthday podication a week or so ago. Still, as this is my favourite show on the radio I couldn't have been more chuffed with my endorsement. Please feel free to follow the link above to download it and hear for yourself. The podication is right at the beginning.

Thorpe Park

Today was the first time I've been to Thorpe Park for donkies*. About 12 years? And boy, has it grown up (as, evidently, have I). As I lived only 10 mins from its door, I used to go most weekends as a kid with my friend Fiona. Back in those days, the highlights were Cinema 180 (predecessor to the IMAX), the tame-by-today's-standards-but-we-thought-it-was-great Space Station Zero (roller coaster in the semi-dark), the Magic Mill (a sedantry jaunt in a boat which went past a load of dodgy fibreglass animals and pixies), Phantom Phantasia (you sat in a shell and slowly went round some 'scary' exhibits, including a skeleton ball and Henry VIII sat having dinner as his wives slowly appeared and disappeared around him - I was once chucked off this because my date, Lee Ayers, was spitting at the waxworks). But I suppose in this day and age, these things just wouldn't cut it.

Despite my nostalgia for such shoddy nonsense, the new rides are fabulous. And so they ruddy well should be for the £32 entrance fee, which left me breathless before we'd even seen a ride. Thank God I had a BOGOF voucher but even so: is it just me who is endlessly fascinated by the extent to which we're being fleeced at these things? In addition, inside the park you could buy 'Fastrack vouchers', which allowed you to jump the queue at the big rides. I have to admit, I balked at first at the thought of paying £9 more than I strictly needed to but as we were limited in the time we had there, bypassing the queues at 4 of the biggest rides was well worth the money! Oh the leisure of it all, wandering past all of the waiting crowds and waltzing pretty much straight on.

Colossus, the world's first 10 loop rollercoaster, was good. Nemesis Inferno was amazing. Tidal Wave was, as you might expect, very wet. X:/No Way Out (though, given that I'm here to blog another day, I think you can guess that there was one) was a bit weird, what with being the world's only backwards rollercoaster which takes place in the pitch black. I believe there's a reason why no one else has made one, and why we had to delay our entrance until they'd cleared up some vomit.

But Stealth. Oh but Stealth.

0-80 mph in under 2 seconds. A vertical climb to (and, naturally, descent from) 205 feet. Breathtaking isn't the word - it's so fast you don't have time to breathe. The acceleration takes place using a series of electromagnets - same as those superfast trains we're hearing all about but will probably never see in Britain - which makes it so smooth you might as well be be sat on a giant knife and wearing trousers made from butter. We paid yet another £6 each to Fastrack (about £1 for every 1.5 second of the ride) to Pole Position (i.e. the front seat) but it really was worth every penny.

Given the huge expense we'd already incurred, we didn't buy any of the pictures that we were so kindly offered by Thorpe Park for an additional extortionate fee. We decided it was cheaper to recreate them for your viewing pleasure instead.

So here is David & I on Nemesis Inferno:



Here we are coping with the massive acceleration on Stealth:


And here was us trying to avoid getting too wet on Tidal Wave:


*but this time they made me

Birthday message

Thirty bloomin' three.

Technically not yet mid-thirties. That's my story and I'm sticking to it.

What's in a name?

A couple in New Zealand are fighting to be able to name their baby son 4Real. I'm not surprised, given that most of the girls I work with give their babies made up names - or conventional names spelt with random Ps, Zs and, for some reason, hyphens and apostrophes thrown in for good measure - and it was only a matter of time before numbers came into the equation. I'm slightly surprised that the NZ authorities have already had to put the kybosh on 'Satan' and 'Adolf Hitler' in the past, but what do I know? Tudor & I insisted - quite seriously - that if we had a son we would give him the middle name 'Danger', so he had a good cheesy chat-up line to use later in life. It is possibly a good thing that our relationship was never fruitful.

He is really Stanley's Dragon, isn't he?

I received in the post today a copy of Stanley's Dragon, a TV series/film I made back in, oh I don't know, 1993 or thereabouts. I hadn't realised it was out on DVD until I stumbled upon it on Amazon a few weeks back (Region 1 disc only, of course) and thought I'd order it for nostalgia purposes. I haven't seen it for about 10 years and thought I'd just check the DVD worked but, inevitably, ended up watching the whole thing. A few things struck me:

• It was ever so slightly rubbish, but in a very sweet, kids' drama kind of way
• If it had been made today, the dragon would have been CGI. I'm so glad we had a big hydraulic rubber thing to act with, it was so much nicer and - in my humble and old-fashioned opinion - looks nicer too
• I can't believe how ruddy young I look. I mean, I know I was only 19 but bloody hellfire I look like a tiny tiny child; a fetus almost*
• I'd forgotten how much fun it was to make, even if the director was a bit of a knob and the assistant director was a total total arsehole. God I hope he's not still in the business
• I found Judd Trichter on imdb.com and boy has he grown up!
• I got to drive a lorry. It was fun
• My hair looked really rubbish all the way through, but I supppose you expected this kind of thing in the 90s
• I notice that on most of the reviews on t'interweb I'm described as a 'cute junior reporter'. Hey! I'm cute!
• Nevertheless, my STARmeter on the imdb has taken me down 4% in the past week. Aw shucks

*this might be a slight exaggeration

On the move again

This afternoon I'm off to my friend & colleague Sophie's to flat sit while she's on holiday (a cruise round Turkey & Greek islands incidentally). So it's time for another bed rating.

I've been staying at my friends Cindy & Fred's house, in their daughter Jessica's room, as she's away at Cambridge. Their other daughter, Davara, is doing her A-levels at the moment (also likely to be going to Cambridge) and her to-ing & fro-ing to exams and constant revision has reminded me what it was like to be at college. Okay, that's a bit of a lie. When I did my A-levels I think the full extent of my revision was flicking through a couple of my text books while lying in the sun. I got Bs regardless, but it's probably indicative of why I didn't go to Cambridge. Mind you, I did choose dossy subjects - Theatre Studies & Communication Studies (I dropped Sociology). Anyway, here goes:

I rate it as follows:
Aesthetics - 10/10
Comfort - 9/10
Quality of sleep - 10/10
Hospitality of hosts - 10/10
Total - 39/40

Comments - Cindy, Fred & Davara couldn't have been more friendly and hospitable - I have begun to feel like one of the family and am very sorry to be leaving! Fortunately, I'll be back here next month to house sit when they go on holiday...

My Free Implants

This is total genius. I'm not sure what I love about it most; that you can 'earn' breast implants in this way, or the fact that the British Association of Aesthetic Plastic Surgeons (BAAPS) must have put in the word 'Aesthetic' very deliberately indeed.

Gagtastic

So Bernard Manning has died age 76. A tribute from his biographer, Jonathan Margolis:

He was a man of his age - and as people of his age went, he was relatively un-racist.

Gigtastic

Marillion really excelled themselves last night at The Forum. Barney is now a total convert (haha in your face). A few things I really love about my favourite band, in no particular order, are as follows:

• H (the lead singer) is always effortlessly note perfect
• Steve Rothery (guitarist) doesn't use his guitar solos to be flashy and show off, they are always simple, pure and played exactly the same every single time
• I also love the way he bows majestically at the crowd when we go wild afterwards
• Ian Moseley (drummer) always looks calm to the point of slightly distracted, despite drumming like a demon
• They often throw up little surprises at their gigs - last night Between You and Me was accompanied by a whole host of giant balloons filled with confetti which we bounced around for ages till they all burst and, in a shock move, they also played Sugar Mice. SUGAR MICE I ask you*
• Last night Mark Kelly's keyboard buggered up just before he did a big solo, so he just pointed at it, shrugged and laughed before running down to complete the solo on H's keyboard at the front
• They have enormous stamina - last night they played for 1 1/2 hours and then came back on for nearly another HOUR of encores. What modern popular beat combo would do that?
• When I see them live - and I've probably seen them around 20-odd times now - I feel such a profound and pure joy that I can't imagine being found in any other walk of life. I love them - not in a stalkery 'I think that they're my best friends' kind of a way, just in a 'they are so good at what they do, they clearly love doing it and we love them for it' kind of way
• We shall find out today if their new single Thank You Whoever You Are has made it into the top ten - fingers crossed please...
  

Boys: I salute you. Long may you continue. And can you come to Canada next year?

*I realise this will mean nothing to non-Marillion fans. But Sugar Mice was a single back in 1987, during the previous incarnation of the band when Fish was the lead singer. If you say 'isn't Fish still in the band?' I'll scream.

Review of bed #2

The second of my sojourns was spent at my friend Suzie's while she was away in Ireland.

I rate it as follows:
Aesthetics - 7/10
Comfort - 7/10
Quality of sleep - 8/10
Hospitality of hosts - 10/10
Total - 32/40

Comments - it was very light in the room so I kept waking up early, but I quite like being woken gently by natural light rather than being torn from a darkened womb-like state by a harsh alarm so that suited me just fine. Nermal the cat was delightful company. She's a special needs cat, with one too many toes (are they still toes in cats?) on each paw, who is ridiculously soppy. I discovered a great Indian takeaway round the corner who did a mean saag chicken.

My boys

Off to see Marillion again this evening, with my nephew Barney in tow despite years of him taking the piss out of me for liking such old people's music. But even The Times agrees with me that:

Contrary to received wisdom, Marillion World is not some lost kingdom of extreme naffness, just a pleasantly eccentric diversion off the mainstream musical map

He'll love it. Or I'll make him pay for his ticket.

Going straight to hell (again)

There was a great great great grandmother on This Morning this morning having a makeover who looked exactly like this:

I might have imagined the cigar.

The best things in life are free

Derren Brown & the internet. Two of my favourite things. In a happy collision, I finally managed to find somewhere to watch Messiah, Derren's exploration of whether he could fool five so-called 'experts' in subjects such as Evangelism, Spiritualism and alien abduction, into thinking he possessed genuine supernatural powers. Needless to say, they were utterly convinced when faced with Derren's awesome abilities, even though he was not necessarily demonstrating quite the abilities they thought he was.

How anyone can still believe in such nonsense after watching something like this is beyond me. Man, he is goooooood.

Marry me DB?

Sofa hopping

Well, it can happen to the best of us. For various reasons too complex to go into here, my time at my dad & step-mum's did not work out and I have moved out again which, given that my tenants are now living at my flat, leaves me without fixed abode at present. Have had various offers from nice people of comfy sofas/spare beds so I'm probably going to be doing this for the next few weeks until I head off to Canadia. At Silas' suggestion, I shall be rating the beds/sofas on which I'm sleeping and including photos so you can chart my progress*. The first bed I have borrowed, where I have been for the past 4 nights and belongs to my friend David (who gallantly took to the sofa for the duration), can be seen here:

I rate it as follows:
Aesthetics - 5/10
Comfort - 4/10
Quality of sleep - 8/10
Hospitality of hosts - 10/10
Total - 27/40

Comments - this bed had a sunken middle, which gave the slightly odd impression you were sleeping in a ship's bunk. Nevertheless, I slept remarkably well in it, mainly, I'd hazard a guess, because I knew I wasn't sleeping in my car.

As you can see, surprisingly comfort and quality of sleep do not always go hand in hand...

For the next week I will be staying at my friend Suzie's while she is on holiday in Ireland and looking after her cat, Nermal. I shall be sleeping in her cousin Sammy's bed (though I have my own sheets, duvet & pillows). I shall let you know the ratings it achieves in due course.

*Please not, this is just 'a bit of fun', in the words of Keith Barret and is not intended to cause any offence to anyone - I'm extremely grateful to all the offers of beds that I've had!

Carry On Neighbours

Could Neighbours get any funnier? Karl & Susan are over in London on holiday - where Karl has planned both a proposal (on the London Eye) and a wedding (their third together, naturally). So far during their trip, not content with bumping into Izzy (who Karl left Susan for last time they were married and is now heavily pregnant with Karl's baby, though he doesn't know he's the father!) who is having a high profile affair with a married footballer, they've also come across Emma Bunton, who found the engagement ring when it went awry, Julian Clary, who lent Izzy his mobile phone to make a call, Michael Parkinson, who happened to be wandering down the South Bank, Neil Morrissey who was the vicar who married them and Jono Coleman and Sinitta, of all people, who were roped in to be the witnesses to the wedding, which took place on a boat on the Thames (so, given that it's not legal to get married outside in England it won't be valid anyway. You'd have thought the Rev. Neil Morrissey would know that. But then, he is just an actor). Then, obviously, Izzy showed up, at which point her waters broke and she had a precipitate labour (i.e. very fast) and gave birth in the middle of the service on the boat, caught by Karl who was still unaware he was the father. Shortly afterwards of course, Susan overheard Izzy telling the footballer so she now knows but didn't tell Karl. Yet.

Laugh? I thought my waters had broken too for a moment.